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“Oh yeah, she’s Mrs. Rossi,” laughed Tito.
“Whatever,” Dante ground his back teeth together. His team, more like brothers, loved to rip on one another. Sometimes their comments weren’t necessary, such as now. Dante inhaled the sea air deeply while he stretched his back, “Where is Roman with my food?”
“I don’t know. I hope he didn’t get arrested like he almost did last time we stayed.”
Glad for the change of subject, Dante grinned, “No, as far as he knows, Sofia doesn’t even come back here anymore.”
“That’s a crying shame.”
No, Dante thought, the shame was in Roman and Sofia’s tumultuous end to their marriage. By the time they realized the inevitable, the team’s location had been compromised. Watching the problems the two of them experienced turned the crew off marriage. Dante didn’t blame Roman’s wife for her irate behavior. In this job, the less your family knew, the better. Not everyone found a balance like Cole and Rosalind, and the secrets could drive a woman crazy. Dante preferred a woman in different area codes and set women straight from the beginning; don’t get attached. Everyone felt the same way. Because of their distaste for marriage, Dante understood the ribbing his team had given him.
“I hope when you end things with Tomasello…” Tito trailed off, his attention focused on someone across from the fountain. Dante followed his gaze to a pretty young brunette with gold highlights in her hair. Tito didn’t get distracted. Since meeting him in boot camp in Parris Island, Tito remained focus. He was the only one in the barracks who’d wanted to be a soldier since birth. Dante didn’t think Tito would ever settle down. He spent his weekends training. For him to be distracted, well, it was odd.
“Mysterious woman from your past?”
Tito shook his head and stood up and stretched, “Nah, she looked familiar. Anyway, when you’re through with this case, I hope you come to your senses with her.”
“Let me ask you something. You don’t think things could work out between us?”
“Between you and Tomasello,” Tito shook his head. “I doubt it. It’s cool and all that she’s an agent but your feelings are going to get in the way.”
“Whoa, who said anything about feelings?” Dante tried to joke but considering the word feelings made him uncomfortable. Infatuation was definitely there. “Did you see the way she held the gun on both of us?”
“I don’t find it a turn on when a woman has her weapon
pointed at me,” which to Dante’s knowledge has never happened to Tito before. He scratched his beard and gave Tito a suspicious glare as if to ask what he was hiding? “Dude, you may need to look into your own kinky ways,” Tito chuckled.
Dante smiled to himself. Harley holding everyone at bay tonight nearly brought him to his knees. She had the perfect stance and control of each weapon. Something about her in that dress with those heels on… Maybe he did have a problem. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Tito shake his head once more.
“Damn you’re screwed.”
“What?”
“You’re getting a hard-on about the woman who just lied to you about her profession.”
“It’s not like I was being honest,” Dante defended. “Damn, that’s why she kept saying FBI so funny.”
“Your ass got played.”
Didn’t he deserve getting played, since he married her under false pretense? He was the one who held all the information from her. What would have happened if he had just stolen her phone like he’d planned? He sure as hell would have had a quiet weekend. “Played or not, I can’t change anything now.”
“So you forgive her for lying?”
“We’re agents. We lie.” Wasn’t that something along the lines Harley said when she realized in her kitchen he’d lied? He didn’t like the tables turned on him but at least he understood them.
Before he had a chance to hear what Tito’s thoughts were, Roman’s figure appeared from the crowd, accompanied by another man slightly shorter than him. The odd couple, biker Roman and a well-dressed man neared. Dante noticed the similarities between the men. He had to be one of his cousins.
“Guys,” Roman held his mouth straight as he came toward them. “This is my cousin, Julio, the mayor.”
“We never knew you had politics in your blood,” Tito joked.
“Funny,” Roman said handing them a box of what smelled like bacalaitos.
Dante took the box and peered inside. Typically the fried cod dish was served much larger but the dozen or so fritters were each individually wrapped in white paper. Probably a good late night snack food for those leaving the clubs.
Julio Torres looked out of place from the three men. Who dressed in a suit this late at night? Unlike his cousin, Julio was well groomed. “Finally, I get to meet some of Roman’s friends. Which one of you crashed the jail with him?”
“That would be me,” Dante raised his hand, his fingers wrapped around his warm food. Steam filled the warm summer night.
